A Forgotten Love :::How Could I Forget?:::
by D. Tyrian
Summary: She knew she loved this man, or at least knew it in her dreams. But her dreams she also forgot, just as she could not remember any scrap of the man in them. AU, Scully and Mulder must face a painful past. Please R&R!
1. The Forgotten Time

**The Forgotten, Part One of a Series,By D. Tyrian  
**  
Disclaimer: Chris Carter isn't sharing? Damn. 

AUTHOR'S NOTES:  
---Italics mean she's dreaming.  
---AU, MSR later  
---SPOILERS: Millenium  
---The first scene is out of nowhere, it never happened, only in my universe.

* * *

  
Silence. Tears glittered in her eyes; the blue eyes which had so long ago enthralled him in their depths, feminine and intelligent all at once. They had once looked like shimmering pools of molten diamond-sapphire, laced with a rare silver hidden deep within her strength. Now they were the color of the sea after a storm, a gray-blue that appeared dead and lifeless. In essence, they reflected the woman who bore them without complaint, never asking for a minute's pity. She remained proud, and it tore her down easily, dragging her to this very moment. Silence. Tears glittered in her eyes. 

She whispered quietly, and it might have been lost to him, had he not trained every one of his senses on her. "Damn you." It was all she said; it was all she needed to say. It summed up everything she could have ever thought to say, and it indeed communicated every hateful thought she had born to him in a very spiteful way. She meant every thought, every feeling, but she dared not tell him, for fear her voice might betray her, and let go of what was really in her head. That would be the last of her.

So she let the stillness close in again, allowing her words to flow over him in waves. All was lost. It was unspoken, but it hung in the oppressive air, smothering any other thought. Sleep would not come tonight. Tears fell down his cheeks regretful streams, his breath hitched in his chest in undulating gasps that betrayed his real thoughts. And words did not come.

Defeat enveloped him in its black grief. His vision wavered, no longer focusing on what he saw, only knowing the pain. He fell to the floor at her feet, wishing death near. He beckoned to it, but it did not heed his call. He suffered. She felt a moment's pity, but it lasted only a moment. The end had come. "Leave," she commanded of him, and he obeyed. Rising to his feet, he shuffled out the door, head hung low. She wouldn't see him until Christmas, four years later.

* * *

_She could feel his soft, pouty lips envelope hers, his arm snake around her waist. She closed her eyes, surrendering herself to the moment, and to him. How long she'd waited for it, and how easily it was dismissed. They pulled apart, reluctant, but knowing what they would have to face if they continued any longer. He gazed at her sweetly, his beautiful hazel eyes softening with love. A stray lock of hair fell on his forehead, and she resisted the temptation to brush it away. "The world didn't end," he whispered, and his voice melted over her like honey, sweet and comforting._

_"No, it didn't." she responded, returning the same look of affection. She loved him, with every shred of her soul. She did not say this, did not commit sacrilege to the moment that, by regulation, was not supposed to exist._

_"Happy New Year, Scully," he sighed. She allowed him to lead her out of the room, completely content to be in his arms._

She did not remember this man, or the time that went with it. It simply would not come to her. She did not force it, for with the feelings of joy and ecstasy, came pain and sorrow. And regret. Most of all regret. She wanted to go back, change whatever went wrong. She knew she loved this man, or at least knew it in her dreams. But her dreams she also forgot, just as she could not remember any scrap of the man in them. None at all.


	2. The Memories Remain

_In case you haven't figured it out, their dreams are also memories. Hint: they will help paint a picture of the events that led to their seperation. _

DISCLAIMER: The song by Staind, It's Been A While, aren't mine, but I used them to add more to the story.

* * *

_Dawn was snaking upon the horizon, its feeble light illuminating the room just enough so that he could see her, in all her beauty. His thoughts began at her fire red hair, – the hair that shone golden red in the sun – which now appeared a soft chestnut in the meager dawn. Itfell around her face in a mess of curls that accentuated her beauty more than it diminished it. Then his thoughts turned to her eyes, cerulean pools of liquid sapphire, with a streak of molten silver to enhance her strength. So often he had dived into those depths, lost in her. Then he thought of her full red lips, which he had first crashed upon in ages past._

_His hand stole out and traced her jawline, his fingers hovering just above her perfect skin. They traveled down her neck, across her shoulder, and stopping at her hand, which he took in his. With a final squeeze, he slid from beneath the warmth of the sheets, putting more that the cold air between them. _

_Without a single word, he gathered his things and tip-toed over to her door. It was just sex anymore; he could no longer hold on to the link which had been strong once. It seemed a fog had slipped between them, obliterating his love for her, a love he could no longer feel. He'd become numb, his love transferring into lust, a simple physical attraction. It was all it boiled down to, all he could feel. Somewhere between distancing themselves at work and sleeping afterwards, they had lost what they had shared. And in the nights they spent together, he knew she felt it, too. _

_What exactly had gone wrong? It wasn't an event he could make out. Love just wasn't enough one day, until even that had begun to slip past his feeling, across a barrier he had built around his heart and soul. He didn't know what to do, but as they continued their escapades of desire, he realized that one day he would have to leave her._

_All of this he mused on his way back home. It was certain that he could not leave her, not yet. But he couldn't continue to ignore the pain that this was causing him. And it was true that it was killing her as well. And as more miles separated them, both literally and figuratively, and as the fog between them grew ever denser, he knew only one thing to do, only one way to bide his time. And then the inevitable would come._

Mulder's eyes fluttered open, welcoming the darkness that he knew only as early morning. Every night, he had the same torturing dream. Why was he forced to relive those moments? It was a rhetorical question; he knew he relived them because he hoped that, if only in his dreams, he might not make the same mistake as he had then, the mistake that had wrenched them apart. But it was the same every night, and every night he remembered vividly how he felt then. The loss. And every morning he remembered wishing for death to overtake him, the night he had paid for his mistake. He wished he could take it back, for all the pain it caused him. That night he had remembered what it was to love her. And he had known what it was to lose her.

And it's been awhile  
Since I could hold my head up high  
And it's been awhile  
Since I first saw you  
And it's been awhile  
Since I could stand on my own two feet again  
And it's been awhile  
Since I could call you

And everything I can't remember  
As fucked up as it all may seem  
The consequences that I've rendered  
I've stretched myself beyond my means

And it's been awhile  
Since I can say that I wasn't addicted  
And it's been awhile  
Since I can say I love myself as well  
And it's been awhile  
Since I've gone and fucked things up just like I always do  
And it's been awhile  
But all that shit seems to disappear when I'm with you

And everything I can't remember  
As fucked up as it all may seem  
The consequences that I've rendered  
I've gone and fucked things up again

Why must I feel this way?  
Just make this go away  
Just one more peaceful day!

And it's been awhile  
Since I could look at myself straight  
And it's been awhile  
Since I said I'm sorry  
And it's been awhile  
Since I've seen the way the candle lights your face  
And it's been awhile  
But I can still remember just the way you taste

And everything I can't remember  
As fucked up as it all may seem to be I know it's me  
I cannot blame this on my father  
He did the best he could for me

And it's been awhile  
Since I could hold my head up high  
And it's been awhile  
Since I said I'm sorry


	3. A Terrible Mistake

_Sorry it's just more dreams, but you should be able to piece together what happened.

* * *

_

_The frigid air squeezed his lungs for every drop of oxygen they possessed, as if the atmosphere was what robbed him of breath. He shouldn't be doing this, praying there was another choice. But it was all he knew to do, as a man. To betray Scully like this was worse than the fog his heart was doing to her now. His soft knock rang barely audible from beneath frozen fingers chilled not from the air, but from his sorrow. The door opened almost instantly, and for a moment she was silent. She knew exactly what he intended. And she approved._

_"Fox," she beckoned, and without a word he crossed her threshold, taking her in his arms as he had a different woman not so long ago. Their lips met, and instantly he felt the difference in stark contrast. What was he doing? His mind raged, pushing for him to feel his love for Scully. But he could not stop. Still, though he knew he did not love her as he loved Scully, the fog was ever present, and he could not stop._

Mulder wakened to his own pleading whimpers, remembering that awful time of his life. He had never missed a person more than he missed Scully. An observer might be astounded at that, considering what happened afterwards, but it was true. It was all that he had left, to miss her.

* * *

_A soft knock resounded through the apartment, reaching her ears in a pleasant monotone of expectancy. His news was urgent; he silently pleaded for her to understand. She remembered vaguely what it had been to love him, living in a world where it could not be present. She could not comprehend what had gone wrong, and had flailed valiantly in the water before drowning. Perhaps he will revive what we had, she thinks, knowing of course this is not the case, but allowing hope a small rite of passage in the dusk of their love._

_She lets him in, taking in the look of defeat and regret he bears. He wishes he could take everything back; he wants to make things better again. But he can't change the past, and not he must pay for his mistakes. A soft sigh of resignation escapes his pale lips, which had until then been pressed together into a thin line, lest he say something he might regret. God knows he regrets enough as it is. "I'm a dad," he whispers, admitting all his mistakes in a tiny phrase. For a moment she does not understand; how could this be? And then she knows._

_Silence. Tears glittered in her eyes; the blue eyes which had so long ago enthralled him in their depths, feminine and intelligent all at once. They had once looked like shimmering pools of molten diamond-sapphire, laced with a rare silver hidden deep within her strength. Now they were the color of the sea after a storm, a gray-blue that appeared dead and lifeless. In essence, they reflected the woman who bore them without complaint, never asking for a minute's pity. She remained proud, and it tore her down easily, dragging her to this very moment. Silence. Tears glittered in her eyes... _

Scully woke with a start, tears streaming down her face. She could not remember her dream, but it must have been terrible. Her heart raced and her brow was damp with sweat. She hated waking in the middle of the night like this, aware that her subconscious was trying to tell her something. But for the life of her, she couldn't figure out what.

* * *

**Author's Note**: The button is right there; right a fricking review! 


	4. God, How He Missed Her

_Hope you liked it, it explains more, and adds to what Mulder is now like. Things should start getting better soon. _

_Disclaimer: The Jewel song, You Were Meant for Me, isn't mine, and yes, I deleted some things. So sue me.

* * *

_

The alarm sounded just before a winter dawn, shrieking its wails and somehow not emulating the wails that were in his heart. God, how he missed her. 

_The fluorescent lights blared everything into a white oblivion. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want this. He didn't want her baby. Our baby, he corrected himself, knowing of course that he was stuck with it anyway. It wasn't that he didn't love them, in some mild form. It was what he sacrificed for this, something better than them, and how he had really fucked up this time. There was no turning back._

_The feeling was of a high-school kid forced to drop out of school to take care of his baby. The outlook was not good. It was a choice he was forced to live with – knowing she was under the impression he was ecstatic about this. He wasn't. _

_Under the lights of a hospital waiting room, an expecting father might envision many things: his kid's graduation, his kid's wedding, hell, his kid playing ball. That wasn't what Mulder saw. He saw her, over and over again, his own personal torture device, and the last words that had formed on her lips that was directed at him. Now, she had done much more inviting things with those lips, the lips he had so long ago kissed, but the words he saw were the words that continued to kill him, each and every godforsaken day: Leave. _

_"Mr. Mulder?" A call rang from behind him. He did his best to put on his worried father face, knowing that it didn't quite make it there through all the pain he couldn't bear. "I'm afraid I have some bad news." This didn't phase Mulder, who, in all honesty, didn't care. After his pause, the doctor went on, "Mrs. Mulder experienced complications during labor. Neither she nor the baby made it."_

On this particular Saturday, he did just about whatever he pleased. He was constantly haunted by images of her, even after four years. He couldn't explain his grief, other than to say he lived it, every damn day.

I hear the clock, it's six a.m.  
I feel so far from where I've been  
I got my eggs and my pancakes too  
I got my maple syrup, everything but you.  
I break the yolks, make a smiley face  
I kinda like it in my brand new place  
I wipe the spots off the mirror  
Don't leave the keys in the door  
Never put wet towels on the floor anymore' cause  
Dreams last so long  
Even after you're gone  
And I was meant for you.  
I called my momma; she was out for a walk  
Consoled a cup of coffee but it didn't wanna talk  
So I picked up a paper, it was more bad news  
More hearts being broken or people being used  
Put on my coat in the pouring rain  
Isaw a movie it just wasn't the same  
'Cause it was happy and I was sad  
It made me miss you oh so bad 'cause  
Dreams last so long  
Even after you're gone  
And I was meant for you.  
I go about my business, I'm doing fine  
Besides what would I say if I had you on the line?  
Same old story, not much to say  
Hearts are broken, everyday.  
I brush my teeth and put the cap back on  
I know you hate it when I leave the light on  
I pick a book up. Turn the sheets down.  
Take a deep breath and a good look around  
Put on my p.j.'s and hop into bed  
I'm half alive but I feel mostly dead  
I try and tell myself it'll be all right  
I just shouldn't think anymore tonight 'cause  
Dreams last so long  
Even after you're gone  
And I was meant for you

God how he missed her.Maybe there was something else among his other thoughts of her. But that's all they really ever boiled down to:God, how he missed her.


	5. The Things We Can't Have

_Okay, guess I have some 'splaining to do. I re-read this, and although it isn't too hard to figure out, I'll do it anyway. Just so you know: Mulder and Scully got together, but their relationship gradually lost its depth and sincerity. Desperate, Mulder went to another woman. She got pregnant (the other woman) and of course Mulder, being the man he was, had to support them - meaning breaking it off with Scully. And poor Mulder learned what we all know: you don't know what you got until it's gone. Wallowing in his grief, the death of his new wife and child didn't faze him. He has so far spent four years grieving. And if you didn't figure it out that Scully can't remember a single thread of Mulder, but feels his absence anyway, well then you're a... well, I won't say it. Hope this helped, if you were lost._

_Disclaimer: TheGreen Daysong, Boulevard of Broken Dreams, isn't mine. And yeah, I deleted quite a few minorthings.

* * *

_

Margaret Scully turned to the doctor in frustration. "She doesn't remember anything, if I've told you once I've told you a hundred times, not a single hint that she knows. Not a damn thread! Don't sit here and tell me she should remember by now, because it won't do any good." Then, more to herself, "She'd die if she remembered; just die! No, it's better this way." 

Dr. Salvers took a deep breath. "I understand, Mrs. Scully," he began, but was interrupted by a very angry Margaret Scully.

"Don't tell me you understand, because you have no idea! You don't know what it is to look in her eyes and _see_ the emptiness. To know she can't have it! I have died enough for her. Too many tears on her account and you're going to tell me she should remember by now, but you understand!?! Don't bother."

"You're frustrated, Mrs. Scully. I can assure you that your daughter is perfectly healthy. There is no reason she can't go on with her life like a normal person. The only difference is that she's missing a chunk of her life, and doesn't know. Maybe she should seek therapy if she feels... well you get the point. I'm just her neurologist, and that's just my opinion."

"I know. But I know exactly what will make all of this go away, and it kills me that that's the one thing she can never have." Margaret Scully sighed.

* * *

The rain pelted down in great sheets, and it fit Mulder's mood exactly. As always. He looked at all the couples rushing out of the sudden storm; it was always the couples he noticed, because it was the one thing he couldn't have. So many things, but he could never have the one thing he would give it all for. 

I walk a lonely road  
The only one that I have ever known  
Don't know where it goes  
But it's home to me and I walk alone

I walk this empty street  
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams  
Where the city sleeps  
and I'm the only one and I walk alone

I walk alone  
I walk alone

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me  
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating  
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me  
'Til then I walk alone

Read between the lines  
What's fucked up and everything's alright  
Check my vital signs  
To know I'm still alive and I walk alone

I walk alone  
I walk alone

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me  
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating  
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me  
'Til then I walk alone

I walk alone  
I walk a...

I walk this empty street  
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams  
Where the city sleeps  
And I'm the only one and I walk a...

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me  
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating  
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me  
'Til then I walk alone...

He would sell his soul to Satan for her, he would run to China and back, hell, he would walk on water, but he couldn't have her. Oh, the things we can't have.


	6. Return to Me

_Disclaimer: The songs, The Scientist, by Coldplay, and My Own Prison, by Creed, aren't mine._

* * *

Mulder didn't want to be here. It was just another stupid faculty Christmas party, but Skinner had all but told him that if he didn't show, he would lose his job. Not that he was much into it anymore; Sam seemed trivial compared to the loss of Scully. But he needed the money, and something to do with his time. Time was, if you asked him, mercilessly plenty. His sorrows, he decided, were best drowned in anything. So be it. 

Carefully he made his way through the crowds, nodding and greeting the necessary people, and, all said, it took him ten minutes to go fifty feet. This was just as well, because he might have missed her if it hadn't.

She was standing by the punch, talking to Agent Reardon, a new and promising pathologist. Her red hair hung loose about her shoulders, and she absently tucked it behind her ear, just like she used to. She wore a simple green dress that clung to her every curve. She looked stunning and elegant. She looked... beautiful, if that could have been said to come close. His Scully.

Slowly, he crept up on them. It was an easy task; they were engrossed in each other. Deftly, he intruded. Maybe she didn't want him, but he had to tell her. He had to tell her of his pain, to let her know he loved her, even now. Moving on wasn't an option... never was.

"...and his intestines were..." Dana Scully stopped, looking at the man gazing at her expectantly. She'd never seen him before. _What was wrong with people these days?_ "Sir, I don't know who you are, but..." and then she stopped. She remembered. She didn't want to, but she did. "Oh my god." she mumbled, her heart in her throat. Then her eyes rolled up into their sockets, and Mulder caught her before she fell to the floor.

Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry  
You don't know how lovely you are  
I had to find you, tell you I need you  
Tell you I set you apart  
Tell me your secrets, and ask me your questions  
Oh let's go back to the start  
Running in circles, coming up tails  
Heads on a science apart  
Nobody said it was easy  
Oh it's such a shame for us to part  
Nobody said it was easy  
No one ever said that it would be this hard  
Oh take me back to the start  
I was just guessing at numbers and figures  
Pulling the puzzles apart  
Questions of science, science and progress  
Do not speak as loud as my heart  
Tell me you love me, come back and haunt me  
Oh and I rush to the start  
Running in circles, chasing our tails  
Coming back as we are  
Nobody said it was easy  
Oh it's such a shame for us to part  
Nobody said it was easy  
No one ever said it would be so hard  
I'm going back to the start

* * *

Margaret Scully paced in the waiting room. Dr. Salvers had nearly fainted himself when he heard the news. She didn't regret the reappearance of Mulder, but the wait was unbearable. Cautiously, she approached him. "Maybe it's better if you let her deal for a while. I'll call you myself when she's ready." He nodded, expecting this. Four years was a long time to wait, sure, but a while could feel like forever when you knew you'd see her again. 

A court is in session, a verdict is in  
No appeal on the docket today  
Just my own sin  
The walls are cold and pale  
The cage made of steel  
Screams fill the room  
Alone I drop and kneel

So I held my head up high  
Hiding hate that burns inside  
Which only fuels their selfish pride  
We're all held captive  
Out from the sun  
A sun that shines on only some  
We the meek are all in one

I hear a thunder in the distance  
See a vision of a cross  
I feel the pain that was given  
On that sad day of loss  
A lion roars in the darkness  
Only he holds the key  
A light to free me from my burden  
And grant me life eternally

Should have been dead  
On a Sunday morning  
Banging my head  
No time for mourning

Ain't got no time  
So I held my head up high  
Hiding hate that burns inside  
Which only fuels their selfish pride  
We're all held captive  
Out from the sun  
A sun that shines on only some  
We the meek are all in one

I cry out to God  
Seeking only his decision  
Gabriel stands and confirms  
I've created my own prison  
I cry out to God  
Seeking only his decision  
Gabriel stands and confirms  
I've created my own prison

So I held my head up high  
Hiding hate that burns inside  
Which only fuels their selfish pride  
We're all held captive  
Out from the sun  
A sun that shines on only some  
We the meek are all in one

Should've been dead on a Sunday morning  
banging my head  
No time for mourning  
Ain't got no time

God, how he'd missed her. He'd wished every day that he could hold her just one second more. So why, now that she was back, did he want to run away? Why are guilt and fear all that he could feel?


	7. The Turmoil Within

Author's Note: Sorry it's been so long,I really have been terribly busy. Hope you like it, there should be more to come soon. Hopefully. 

Oh God. That was all she could think of, and that might be best. For all she remembers now, it is most certainly best. Yes, definitely words will do this feeling no justice. Shock and betrayal comes first, and that's easy because it's the most natural. She has a right to these feelings, she knows, but still they don't seem right. Four years he's waited... and so has she, and she knows this in some form. Then fear, because she misses him, and because, most of all, she loves him... still. Why? It's as good of a question as any, and she'd love to know the answer. She fears not rejection, but the slow and painful distance that had grown between them.

Finally there comes grief, because she knows there is nothing she can do about it. She loves him, and she will most certainly go back to him. How can she love him after what he has done? She is not sure, but it is what happened, and she knows only to accept it. She is torn, knowing she can't go back to him, not now, but she knows she must. It is, in essence, the only option.

Margaret explained to her in great detail many things, including the death of Mulder's wife and child, and his grief not over that loss, but over her. She feels guilt then, for causing him such pain. But she knows that it is his love for her that is the cause of this, and then she is elated for such a privilege – she loves him without hesitation. Then there is embarrassment, for her brief joy, because he lived as a shell for four years without her, and then she feels pity and guilt. There were so many emotions, all colliding into one another. And why not, after what she remembered? Yes, _Oh, God _is all there is to think of. And all there needs to be.

Sitting in her hospital bed, Scully reflects over her original reactions, and decide all there is left to do is see him. She is not afraid. She doesn't have to be.

* * *

He steps in quietly, his heart pounding in fear. He feels rejection just around the corner. She looks up at him, and her face is impossible to read. He used to be so well at knowing her every thought, but not anymore. Oh, how he wished he could change that. Yet he had wished a few things in these years, and not a one has come true... until now. He bows his head in embarrassment. "I'm sorry," he whispers, and then is afraid he will have to repeat it because she didn't hear, and he knows his voice is shaking. She must think him but a baby. 

"For what?" She questions, and for a moment he thinks she didn't remember. But she did, he knows it. It is somewhere written on her face, but it is like a foreign language and it is difficult to read.

"For... you know. What happened. What I did." He answers, knowing of course she knew the answer, but willing to say it anyway, to convey his pain. In that moment he realizes he is asking for pity, and he doesn't want pity. He wants forgiveness... love, if she'll give it.

"Don't be. The past is past." She smiles like it is so easy, but he can't smile back – he doesn't quite remember how; he's sure those muscles have atrophied. Painful silence interludes, and he remembers a time when silence was never painful. "Don't," she repeats, and he finds tears in his eyes. He shakes his head.

"It's too late... too late." he defeats, and he recognizes pain in her eyes.

"No. It's never too late." she attempts. He is adamant.

"Yes, it has long been too late." he insists, and she knows it to be true.

"Can't we _try_ Mulder? Can't we at least _try_? You have no idea what it's like to wake up knowing something's missing." And of course she realizes she is wrong, he knows better than anyone.

He shakes his head. "I don't think we can." Her head bows and he knows she is crying. He doesn't know what to say. "I'm sorry," and this time it isn't for what happened, what he did. This time he apologizes because he knows there is no hope in sight.

Author's Note: Shame, I know, there should've been a song. I just didn't know a good one to use. MSR to come soon; I had to let the story run its own course, and, well, here we are. And if you haven't written a review, but you've read thus far, WRITE A FRICKING REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


	8. A Solution, A Beginning

_Sorry it's been forever. But I really like the way this is turning out, and I think you will too. P.S. THIS IS NOT THE END.

* * *

_A soft knock resounded through the apartment, and although its suddenness caused her to jump in mild surprise, the silence afterwards formed a vacuum in the air that sucked life and happiness. She padded softly to the door, dreading its opening. She'd called him as the blood red of sunset began to turn into the hollow orange of a night in the city. The knob was cold in her hand; dead and lifeless, she imagined it sucking the warmth from her until she was frozen on the floor. The image would not leave her. Yet she managed to turn the knob and swing her arm inward. And there he stood.

He smiled at her weakly, and it was a mere shadow of the sparkling grin he'd once worn. It was fake, she saw, and she returned it with only the same veracity he'd shown. She was not ready to smile yet. She stepped away from the door, allowing him in. He entered the apartment with an awkwardness he'd never shown before.

She was reminded of how comfortable they both used to be with each other – they'd even swapped keys, and he used to let himself into her apartment on late evenings and they'd dance on her living room floor. He'd wrap his arms around her waist and bury his nose in her hair, and she would float on the scent of his cologne as she laid her cheek on his chest. She thinks now that, on those evenings, she loved him more than on the nights when he would show up and they would laugh their way to her bedroom, where they would do a different type of dancing; how the term _making love_ always seemed to apply less to sex than to the comfort of his arms as they swayed together in a harmony that never applied anywhere else, not even in the bedroom.

Words were not anywhere to be found; silence hung in the air between them, robbing her of breath. It was an oppressive blanket laid over them, swift and black. She had to act soon. "Tea?" she croaked, and an amused smile made an appearance on his face for a split second. He nodded. And eternity was born and passed before the tea was ready, and coming out of the kitchen, she saw with bemused delight that he'd seated himself on the couch, something she hadn't expected him to do.

He took the tea with a whispered, "Thanks," and she'd smiled in return. "I needed to see you," she told him, not looking at him but gazing out the window into the night sky, devoid of stars from the city lights. He nodded. "After everything... after everything I remembered, I couldn't help thinking I still need you." She turned to him. "I know we don't have much of a chance. I know we probably couldn't even make it as friends. But Mulder, I just couldn't help myself. Thinking after all this time you waited for me... and I'd waited for you too. I just couldn't help wondering," she confessed, returning to view outside the window, "if I could make it on my own now." There was no need to specify the meaning of the phrase, _on my own_, because they both knew what she really meant was _without you_. And somehow that spoke more volumes than she knew to say.

"I know, keed. But what can we do?" She smiled with nostalgia at that: _keed_. He used to call her that, and she never knew where he got it, but she'd loved it when he said it from the start. It had just seemed... right.

She turned to him, her heart evident in her eyes. "Stay," she asked. "Stay with me." And in the morning, when the sun rose orange in the sky, she would smile. She would smile and think, _Stay. Stay with me._ They didn't sleep with each other. Instead, she beckoned him to dance on her living room floor; he wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his nose in her hair, and she floated on the scent of his cologne as she laid her head on his chest. It was not an end, but as the glow from the rising sun filled her room, she knew it was a beginning.

_

* * *

Hope you liked it. PLEASE, please, I'm begging you, write a review, I live off reviews. Please. _: ) 


	9. Promise Me

My last installment (finally). Sorry about the wait. It at last came to me. Hope you like it as much as I do.

* * *

The sweet smell of blueberry pancakes wafted out into the living room, invading Mulder's nostrils with the irresistible scent of any Scully family recipe. She could almost hear him drooling, and for one short moment she smiled, but then it was gone as if it was never there. Their romantic evening did nothing to change her mind; she loved him, as much was certain – in fact, she perhaps loved him now more than ever before. 

She carried the cooked pancakes into the dining room, Mulder's stack nearly twice the size of hers; his appetite had always amazed her in some way. "Down, boy." She smiled, and Mulder made an obvious effort to restrain himself. When the silence was too much for them, Scully began to talk. "Mulder, I still love you."

He smiled. "I know. I have never loved a person the way I love you, and I never stopped."

"Why, then?" She asked the one question she needed the answer to, but it was the hardest one to ask.

Mulder's stomach did a lazy roll-and-flip, and he could almost imagine a gymnastics tournament going on in slow motion down there. He knew what she wanted, but couldn't quite bring himself to answer. "Why what?"

Scully, frustrated as hell, replied, "Why, Mulder, if you loved me so damn much," her calm had scared him at first, but he jumped when she began to scream through her tears, "DID YOU FUCK ANOTHER WOMAN BEHIND MY BACK!"

Slowly, he whispered, his voice cracking as he cried in shame, "I wasn't strong enough to bring us together, and I wasn't strong enough to lose you."

"Well, you did." her voice cut through him better than any knife ever could, and she regretted causing his this pain, but goddammit, he cheated on her. How could he have loved her then?

"I didn't know what to do."

His answer stunned her for a moment in it's childish logic, but she saw it was the only way he could reason out his complex feelings, and she saw it was exactly the same viewpoint she had taken. "You could have come to me."

He looked at her, then, with tears in his eyes and bruises on his heart. All the pain he had ever known was reflected in his aging eyes. "I'm coming to you now. I need you, Scully. I don't think I've ever needed you more."

Tears fell down her soft cheek, this time for a different reason. "I need you, too. My god, Mulder." She sobbed, then, and he kissed away her tears, a taste he would never forget.

* * *

Later, they would dance, and he would wrap his arms around her waist and bury his nose in her hair, inhaling the scent, remembering forever. She would float on the scent of his cologne, and he would whisper slowly in her ear, his soft breath tingling on her neck, "Promise me, Scully, that it's just you and me forever, until the sun sets on our lives and even then, it's still just you and me, me and you, past the end of eternity and long after that. Promise me we will meet in every world, and everywhere, every time, it's just you and me, me and you. _Us. Always._"

"I promise."

She kept it.

And so did he.

Always.

* * *

END 


End file.
